The Weight of the Well Crafted Decision
by Dragon Claymore
Summary: Hotch and Rossi discuss a life choice Rossi faces. Pre-series.


Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds, the characters from the show, etc. I am not making any money off the writing of this story.

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><p>This was originally a drabble from BonesBird's drabble challenge on FaceBook. 500 words were, once again, just not enough so I finished it and this is the result. The lyrics below are the lyrics for the challenge and the inspiration for the story.<p>

Thanks / blame goes to ilovetvalot for the idea / beta.

Also, Hotch may seem a little OOC here. I imagine him as being serious but not as burdened as he is in the series. He's not SSAIC here; he's just an SSA.

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><p><em><strong>Out of the darkness and into the sun<strong>_

_**But I won't forget the place I come from**_

_**I gotta take a risk, take a chance**_

_**Make a change and breakaway**_

"So you made a choice yet?"

The elder man sighed. "I think so." He paused. "No, I really don't know."

"Dave," the younger profiler sighed. "I know this isn't easy, but you need to make a choice."

"Aaron," Dave mockingly sighed back. "I KNOW I need to make a choice. Gideon reminds me of that almost hourly. If I wanted to be pushed and placated, I would've gone to his office."

Aaron glanced at his desk, as if a new topic for the conversation was written there. "Have you and Arabella finalized things?"

Dave grimaced; he never thought his third divorce would be an easier topic than anything else would. "My mother is either supremely happy with me for finally filing or she's rolling in her grave that her only son is now thrice divorced." Why he'd married the woman in the first place, he couldn't remember. She screeched like a banshee every time he was late coming home or had to go out of town for work. He supposed he should thank her in a way. If it hadn't been for her nagging, he would never have secluded himself in his office. He never would've written his book. Though he'd never really wanted for money, it would be nice to have a source other than his FBI pension to fall back on.

He leaned back in the visitor chair of the other man's office. Ironic, their best discussions occurred when they sat like this, with the desk between them.

"You know the publishers want you to make a tour with the book. It would be good for you. Get away for a while…"

Dave cut Aaron off. "Clear my head, blah, blah, blah. Spare me the psycho babble, Aaron." He gave the younger man a 'look'. "Remember who taught you most of it."

Aaron suppressed the childish urge to stick his tongue out at the man. "Oh supreme profiler, should you ever leave this bunker you will burst into flames in the sunlight."

Dave smacked his lips in derision and glared.

"Seriously, it wouldn't hurt. Or look at it this way: it would give you a breather from Gideon and Harkness breathing down your neck."

"That it would," Dave sighed. Silence hung between the two as both contemplated a BAU without one of the "founding fathers".

"It'll be an adjustment all the way around," Aaron confessed quietly. He wanted to see the elder man retire gracefully and not burn out. It also gave him some hope that when his time came, he would be able to walk away and survive. It was selfish, in a way; Aaron wanted Dave to show him the way. He needed to know how to leave with dignity and know that the light at the end of the tunnel that was one's working years wasn't a train ready to plow him into oblivion.

"Time for a change, right?" Dave whispered. Change was scary. No matter how well one prepared for it, it scared the crap out of him. He was David Rossi, profiler extraordinaire, one member of the small group of men that convinced the Director of the FBI, the President of the United States, and the Senate committee that this profiling would work. Profiling had a real shot at saving lives. If they put away some of the worst scum that roamed the streets, it would show local law enforcement that the FBI was there to help. They had high hopes for the new division. Cataloguing details of crimes, types of criminals…and if they could convince those that would never get out to talk to them – that would be such a coup.

Bringing Aaron on board was such a wise decision, looking back. They needed someone young enough that he was willing to learn but old enough that he would be a good candidate to take over once the "old boys" finally retired. Being a former prosecutor, Aaron knew how to lead and what it took to build good cases, ensuring those they caught wouldn't be freed accidently or on a technicality.

Somehow, Dave had never really given retirement a lot of thought. He didn't golf, despised society events – oh, he went to some of them but they always made him feel uncomfortable.

He was a loner by nature. Coming to work was all the socializing he needed and some days it was more than he wanted. It could be because he always privately thought he'd die on the job, that the only way they'd get him away from this was to end him.

"Change is good right?"

"In this case, I think it'll be really good for you, my friend."

"What do I do after the tour?" He was still whispering; this conversation wasn't for normal volume speech.

Aaron could only shake his head. "I don't know, my friend. I really don't know. I will say this: if I'm in charge and you ever want to come back – just call."

He could do this. He could break away from what had been his life for over twenty-five years and start something new. He'd hang onto a few good fragments, but it was time for a new normal.

Dave took a deep breath, held it, and released it with a huff.

"I'll do it. I'm going to take the retirement and see what I can make for it."

Aaron wanted to bear hug his friend for finally making the decision that would be best for _him_. Instead, he stood up, moved around his desk – carefully so he didn't knock any papers to the ground, offered his hand and when it was grasped, pulled the elder to his feet. After a manly slap on the back, Aaron took a careful look at Dave and smiled. He could see a weight had slipped from his friend's shoulders at the decision.

"I think you'll be just fine, my friend. Just one request."

At Aaron's pause, Dave eyed him warily.

Aaron grinned at Dave's raised eyebrow. "Drop me a line and let me know what it's like on the other side."

Dave clapped Aaron's shoulder, relief showing on his face. "That I can do, my friend. That I can do for you."

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><p>We are the creative force of our life, and through our own decisions rather than our conditions, if we carefully learn to do certain things, we can accomplish those goals.<br>_**~ Stephen Covey**_

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><p>Yet another drabble that took on a life of its own. I hope I captured the sentiments of those facing retirement with sensitivity and realism. I've heard it said that some simply couldn't adapt to the shift and end up leaving this earth not long after retiring. However, I have had the privilege of catching up every once in a while with a former supervisor I had a great deal of respect for before he retired (or was recruited to the 3-grandsons hockey team as he put it in his farewell e-mail). He and his wife are enjoying life, spending time with their family and giving me hope that when I reach that point (albeit I have many, many years left) that I will be able to enjoy the health and family that he is.<p>

In addition, watching my parents as they start looking at retiring and what that will mean for them is fascinating. What changes are coming and how one mentally as well as physically prepares for one of the major changes in life are points that need to be addressed carefully.

Dedicated to Fred, keep enjoying life and giving those of us following hope for years to come.

Dragon


End file.
